
Class^'SHSU 
Book ' ^ L,, 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



k^ 



LAST POEMS 



UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME 

A SHROPSHIRE 
LAD 

By 

A. E. HOUSMAN 

$1.50 
AUTHORISED EDITION 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 



W 



LAST POEMS 



A.' ErHOUSMAN 




NEW YORK 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

MDCCCCXXIX 






'i''^ 



Copyright, 1922, 
By Hbkby Holt and Company 



Printed November, 1922 



PRINTED IN T7. S. A. 



M 16 1923 I ^ 

!C1AC92014 



I PUBLISH these poems, few though they are, be- 
cause it is not likely that I shall ever be impelled 
to write much more. I can no longer expect to be 
revisited by the continuous excitement under which 
in the early months of 1895 I wrote the greater 
part of my other book, nor indeed could I well 
sustain it if it came ; and it is best that what I have 
written should be printed while I am here to see it 
through the press and control its spelling and punc- 
tuation. About a quarter of this matter belongs 
to the April of the present year, but most of it 
to dates between 1895 and 1910. 

September 1922 



CONTENTS 



no. 

I. Beyond the moor and mountain crest 

II. As I gird on for fighting . 

III. Her strong enchantments failing . 

IV. Oh hard is the bed they have made 
V. The Queen she sent to look for me 

VI. I 'listed at home for a lancer 

VII. In valleys green and still 

VIII. Soldier from the wars returning . 

IX. The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and 

flowers 

X. Could man be drunk for ever . 

XL Yonder see the morning blink 

XII. The laws of God, the laws of man 

XIII. What sound awakened me, I wonder 

XIV. The night my father got me . 
XV. He stood, and heard the steeple 

XVI. Star and coronal and bell . 
7 



PAGE 
II 

H 
him 16 



the 



17 
19 
21 

23 

24 
26 

27 
28 
30 
33 
35 
36 



CONTENTS 



NO. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXL 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 



PAGE 

The Wain upon the northern steep . . 38 
The rain, it streams on stone and hillock 39 



In midnights of November 
The night is freezing fast . 
The fairies break their dances 
The sloe was lost in flower 
In the morning, in the morning 
He is here, Urania's son 
'Tis mute, the word they went to hear 
The half-moon westers low, my love 
The sigh that heaves the grasses . 
Now dreary dawns the eastern light 
Wake not for the world-heard thunder 
I walked alone and thinking . 
Onward led the road again . 
When I would muse in boyhood 
When the eye of day is shut 
The orchards half the way 
When first my way to fair I took 
8 



41 

43 

4+ 
45 
46 

47 

50 

52 
53 
54 
55 
57 
59 
65 
66 

67 
69 



CONTENTS 

NO. PACK 

XXXVI. West and away the wheels of darkness 

roll 70 

"XXXVII. These, in the day when heaven was falling. 71 

XXXVIII. Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough . 72 

XXXIX. When summer's end is nighing ... 73 

XL. Tell me not here, it needs not saying . 75 

XLL When lads were home from labour . . 77 



We'll to the ivoods no more. 
The laurels all are cut, 
The bozL'ers are bare of bay 
That once the Muses <wore; 
The year draivs in the day 
And soon loill evening shut: 
The laurels all are cut, 
We'll to the ivoods no more. 
Oh ive'll no more, no more 
To the leafy ivoods aivay. 
To the high ivild ivoods of laurel 
And the boivers of bay no more. 



10 



I 

THE WEST 

Beyond the moor and mountain crest 
— Comrade, look not on the west — 
The sun is down and drinks away 
From air and land the lees of day. 

The long cloud and the single pine 
Sentinel the ending line. 
And out beyond it, clear and wan. 
Reach the gulfs of evening on. 

The son of woman turns his brow 
West from forty counties now. 
And, as the edge of heaven he eyes. 
Thinks eternal thoughts, and sighs. 

Oh wide's the world, to rest or roam. 
With change abroad and cheer at home, 
Fights and furloughs, talk and tale. 
Company and beef and ale. 



But if I front the evening sky 
Silent on the west look I, 
And my comrade, stride for stride^ 
Paces silent at my side. 



Comrade, look not on the west: 
'Twill have the heart out of your breast; 
'Twill take your thoughts and sink them far, 
Leagues beyond the sunset bar. 



Oh lad, I fear that yon's the sea 
Where they fished for you and me. 
And there, from whence we both were ta'en. 
You and I shall drown again. 



Send not on your soul before 
To dive from that beguiling shore. 
And let not yet the swimmer leave 
His clothes upon the sands of eve. 

12 



Too fast to yonder strand forlorn 
We journey, to the sunken bourn, / 
To flush the fading tinges eyed 
By other lads at eventide. 

Wide is the world, to rest or roam. 
And early 'tis for turning home: 
Plant your heel on earth and stand. 
And let's forget our native land. 

When you and I are spilt on air 
Long we shall be strangers there ; 
Friends of flesh and bone are best: 
Comrade, look not on the west. 



13 



II 

As I gird on for fighting 
My sword upon my thigh, 

I think on old ill fortunes 
Of better men than I. 

Think I, the round world over. 
What golden lads are low 

With hurts not mine to mourn for 
And shames I shall not know. 

What evil luck soever 
For me remains in store, 

'Tis sure much finer fellows 

Have fared much worse before. 

So here are things to think on 
That ought to make me brave. 

As I strap on for fighting 
My sword that will not gave. 



14 



Ill 

Her strong enchantments failing, 
Her towers of fear in wreck. 

Her limbecks dried of poisons 
And the knife at her neck, 

The Queen of air and darkness 
Begins to shrill and cry, 

"O young man, O my slayer, 
To-morrow you shall die." 

O Queen of air and darkness, 
I think 'tis truth you say. 

And I shall die to-morrow; 
But you will die to-day. 



IS 



IV 

ILLIC JACET 

Oh hard is the bed they have made him. 
And common the blanket and cheap ; 

But there he will lie as they laid him: 
Where else could you trust him to sleep ? 

To sleep when the bugle is crying 

And cravens have heard and are brave. 

When mothers and sweethearts are sighing 
And lads are in love with the grave. 

Oh dark is the chamber and lonely, 
And lights and companions depart; 

But lief will he lose them and only 
Behold the desire of his heart. 

And low is the roof, but it covers 

A sleeper content to repose; 
And far from his friends and his lovers 

He lies with the sweetheart he chose. 



V 
GRENADIER 

The Queen she sent to look for me. 

The sergeant he did say, 
"Young man, a soldier will you be 

For thirteen pence a day?" 

For thirteen pence a day did I 
Take off the things I wore, 

And I have marched to where I lie. 
And I shall march no more. 

My mouth is dry, my shirt is wet. 

My blood runs all away. 
So now I shall not die in debt 

For thirteen pence a day. 

To-morrow after new young men 
The sergeant he must see. 

For things will all be over then 
Between the Queen and me. 



17 



And I shall have to bate my price, 
For in the grave, they say. 

Is neither knowledge nor device 
Nor thirteen pence a day. 



i8 



VI 
LANCER 

I 'listed at home for a lancer, 

Oh who would not sleep with the brave? 
I 'listed at home for a lancer 

To ride on a horse to my grave. 

And over the seas we were bidden 
A country to take and to keep; 

And far with the brave I have ridden, 
And now with the brave I shall sleep. 

For round me the men will be lying 
That learned me the way to behave, 

And showed me my business of dying: 
Oh who would not sleep with the brave? 

They ask and there is not an answer; 
Says I, I will 'list for a lancer. 

Oh who would not sleep with the brave? 
19 



And I with the brave shall be sleeping 
At ease on my mattress of loam, 

When back from their taking and keeping 
The squadron is riding at home. 

The wind with the plumes will be playing. 
The girls will stand watching them wave, 

And eyeing my comrades and saying 

Oh who "would not sleep with the brave? 

They ask and there is not an answer; 
Says you, I will 'list for a lancer. 

Oh who would not sleep with the brave? 



20 



VII 

In valleys green and still 
Where lovers wander maying 

They hear from over hill 
A music playing. 



Behind the drum and fife. 

Past hawthornwood and hollow. 
Through earth and out of life 

The soldiers follow. 



The soldier's is the trade : 
In any wind or weather 

He steals the heart of maid 
And man together. 



The lover and his lass 

Beneath the hawthorn lying 
Have heard the soldiers pass, 

And both are sighing. 

21 



And down the distance they 
With dying note and swelling 

Walk the resounding way 
To the still dwelling. 



22 



VIII 

Soldier from the wars returning. 
Spoiler of the taken town. 

Here is ease that asks not earning; 
Turn you in and sit you down. 

Peace is come and wars are over, 
Welcome you and welcome all. 

While the charger crops the clover 
And his bridle hangs in stall. 

Now no more of winters biting, 
Filth in trench from fall to spring. 

Summers full of sweat and fighting 
For the Kesar or the King. 

Rest you, charger, rust you, bridle ; 

Kings and kesars, keep your pay; 
Soldier, sit you down and idle 

At the inn of night for aye. 



33 



IX 

The chestnut casts his flambeaux, and the flowers 
Stream from the hawthorn on the wind away, 

The doors clap to, the pane is blind with showers. 
Pass me the can, lad ; there's an end of May. 



There's one spoilt spring to scant our mortal lot, 
One season ruined of our little store. 

May will be fine next year as like as not: 
Oh, ay, but then we shall be twenty-four. 



We for a certainty are not the first 

Have sat in taverns while the tempest hurled 

Their hopeful plans to emptiness, and cursed 
Whatever brute and blackguard made the world. 



It is in truth iniquity on high 

To cheat our sentenced souls of aught they crave. 
And mar the merriment as you and I 

Fare on our long fool's-errand to the grave. 
24 



Iniquity it is; but pass the can. 

My lad, no pair of kings our mothers bore; 
Our only portion is the estate of man: 

We want the moon, but we shall get no more. 

If here to-day the cloud of thunder lours 
To-morrow it will hie on far behests; 

The flesh will grieve on other bones than ours 
Soon, and the soul will mourn in other breasts. 

The troubles of our proud and angry dust 
Are from eternity, and shall not fail. 

Bear them we can, and if we can we must. 

Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale. 



25 



Could man be drunk for ever 
With liquor, love, or fights. 

Lief should I rouse at morning 
And lief lie down of nights. 

But men at whiles are sober 
And think by fits and starts. 

And if they think, they fasten 
Their hands upon their hearts. 



26 



XI 

Yonder see the morning blink: 

The sun is up, and up must I, 
To wash and dress and eat and drink 
And look at things and talk and think 
And work, and God knows why. 

Oh often have I washed and dressed 
And what's to show for all my pain? 

Let me lie abed and rest: 

Ten thousand times I've done my best 
And all's to do again. 



27 



XII 

The laws of God, the laws of man, 
He may keep that will and can; 
Not I: let God and man decree 
Laws for themselves and not for me; 
And if my ways are not as theirs 
Let them mind their own affairs. 
Their deeds I judge and much condemn. 
Yet when did I make laws for them? 
Please yourselves, say I, and they 
Need only look the other way. 
But no, they will not ; they must still 
Wrest their neighbour to their will, 
And make me dance as they desire 
With jail and gallows and hell-fire. 
And how am I to face the odds 
Of man's bedevilment and God's? 
I, a stranger and afraid 
In a world I never made. 



28 



They will be master, right or wrong; 
Though both are foolish, both are strong. 
And since, my soul, we cannot fly 
To Saturn nor to Mercury, 
Keep we must, if keep we can. 
These foreign laws of God and man. 



29 



XIII 
THE DESERTER 

"What sound awakened me, I wonder. 

For now 'tis dumb." 
"Wheels on the road most like, or thunder : 

Lie down ; 'twas not the drum." 

"Toil at sea and two in haven 
And trouble far: 
Fly, crow, away, and follow, raven. 
And all that croaks for war." 

"Hark, I heard the bugle crying, 
And where am I ? 
My friends are up and dressed and dying, 
And I will dress and die." 

"Oh love is rare and trouble plenty 
And carrion cheap, 
And daylight dear at f our-and-twenty : 
Lie down again and sleep." 
30 



"Reach me my belt and leave your prattle: 
Your hour is gone; 
But my day is the day of battle, 
And that comes dawning on. 



'They mow the field of man in season : 

Farewell, my fair, 
And, call it truth or call it treason, 

Farewell the vows that were." 



"Ay, false heart, forsake me lightly : 
'Tis like the brave. 
They find no bed to joy in rightly 
Before they find the grave. 



"Their love is for their own undoing, 
And east and west 
They scour about the world a-wooing 
The bullet to their breast. 
31 



"Sail away the ocean over. 

Oh sail away, 
And lie there with your leaden lover 
For ever and a day." 



33 



XIV 

THE CULPRIT 

The night my father got me 
His mind was not on me; 

He did not plague his fancy 
To muse if I should be 
The son you see. 



The day my mother bore me 
She was a fool and glad, 

For all the pain I cost her, 
That she had borne the lad 
That borne she had. 



My mother and my father 
Out of the light they lie; 

The warrant would not find them^ 
And here 'tis only I 
Shall hang so high. 
33 



Oh let not man remember 
The soul that God forgot. 

But fetch the county kerchief 
And noose me in the knot, 
And I will rot. 

For so the game is ended 
That should not have begun. 

My father and my mother 
They had a likely son, 
And I have none. 



34 



XV 

EIGHT O'CLOCK 

Ie stood, and heard the steeple 

Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town. 
)ne, two, three, four, to market-place and people 

It tossed them down. 

(trapped, noosed, nighing his hour, 

He stood and counted them and cursed his luck; 
^nd then the clock collected in the tower 

Its strength, and struck. 



35 



XVI 
SPRING MORNING 

Star and coronal and bell 

April underfoot renews. 
And the hope of man as well 

Flowers among the morning dews. 

Now the old come out to look, 
Winter past and winter's pains, 

How the sky in pool and brook 
Glitters on the grassy plains. 

Easily the gentle air 

Wafts the turning season on; 
Things to comfort them are there. 

Though 'tis true the best are gone. 

Now the scorned unlucky lad 
Rousing from his pillow gnawn 

Mans his heart and deep and glad 
Drinks the valiant air of dawn. 
36 



Half the night he longed to die. 
Now are sown on hill and plain 

Pleasures worth his while to try 
Ere he longs to die again. 

Blue the sky from east to west 
Arches, and the world is wide. 

Though the girl he loves the best 
Rouses from another's side. 



37 



XVII 
ASTRONOMY 

The Wain upon the northern steep 

Descends and lifts away. 
Oh I will sit me down and weep 

For bones in Africa. 

For pay and medals, name and rank. 
Things that he has not found, 

He hove the Cross to heaven and sank 
The pole-star underground. 

And now he does not even see 

Signs of the nadir roll 
At night over the ground where he 

Is buried with the pole. 



38 



XVIII 

The rain, it streams on stone and hillock. 

The boot clings to the clay. 
Since all is done that's due and right 
Let's home; and now, my lad, good-night. 

For I must turn away. 



Good-night, my lad, for nought's eternal; 

No league of ours, for sure. 
To-morrow I shall miss you less. 
And ache of heart and heaviness 

Are things that time should cure. 



Over the hill the highway marches 

And what's beyond is wide: 
Oh soon enough will pine to nought 
Remembrance and the faithful thought 
That sits the grave beside. 
39 



The skies, they are not always raining 
Nor grey the twelvemonth through; 
And I shall meet good days and mirth. 
And range the lovely lands of earth 
With friends no worse than you. 

But oh, my man, the house is fallen 

That none can build again; 
My man, how full of joy and woe 
Your mother bore you years ago 
To-night to lie in the rain. 



40 



XIX 

In midnights of November, 

When Dead Man's Fair is nigh, 

And danger in the valley. 
And anger in the sky. 



Around the huddling homesteads 
The leafless timber roars. 

And the dead call the dying 
And finger at the doors. 

Oh, yonder faltering fingers 
Are hands I used to hold; 

Their false companion drowses 
And leaves them in the cold. 



Oh, to the bed of ocean, 
To Africk and to Ind, 

I will arise and follow 
Along the rainy wind. 
41 



The night goes ©ut and under 
With all its train forlorn; 

Hues in the east assemble 
And cocks crow up the morn. 

The living are the living 

And dead the dead will stay, 

And I will sort with comrades 
That face the beam of day. 



42 



XX 

The night is freezing fast, 
To-morrow comes December ; 
And winterfalls of old 
Are with me from the past; 
And chiefly I remember 

How Dick would hate the cold. 

Fall, winter, fall; for he, 

Prompt hand and headpiece clever. 
Has woven a winter robe, 
And made of earth and sea 
His overcoat for ever, 

And wears the turning globe. 



43 



XXI 

The fairies break their dances 
And leave the printed lawn. 

And up from India glances 
The silver sail of dawn. 

The candles burn their sockets, 
The blinds let through the day, 

The young man feels his pockets 
And wonders what's to pay. 



44 



XXII 

The sloe was lost in flower, 
The April elm was dim; 

That was the lover's hour. 
The hour for lies and him. 

If thorns are all the bower, 
If north winds freeze the fir. 

Why, 'tis another's hour. 
The hour for truth and her. 



45 



XXIII 

In the morning, in the morning. 
In the happy field of hay. 

Oh they looked at one another 
By the light of day. 

In the blue and silver morning 
On the haycock as they lay, 

Oh they looked at one another 
And they looked away. 



46 



XXIV 

EPITHALAMIUM 

He is here, Urania's son, 
Hymen come from Helicon; 
God that glads the lover's heart, 
He is here to join and part. 
So the groomsman quits your side 
And the bridegroom seeks the bride: 
Friend and comrade yield you o'er 
To her that hardly loves you more. 

Now the sun his skyward beam 
Hast tilted from the Ocean stream. 
Light the Indies, laggard sun: 
Happy bridegroom, day is done. 
And the star from CEta's steep 
Calls to bed but not to sleep. 

Happy bridegroom, Hesper brings 
All desired and timely things. 

47 



All whom morning sends to roam, 
Hesper loves to lead them home. 
Home return who him behold, 
Child to mother, sheep to fold, 
Bird to nest from wandering wide: 
Happy bridegroom, seek your bride. 

Pour it out, the golden cup 
Given and guarded, brimming up. 
Safe through jostling markets borne 
And the thicket of the thorn; 
Folly spurned and danger past, 
Pour it to the god at last. 

Now, to smother noise and light. 
Is stolen abroad the wildering night. 
And the blotting shades confuse 
Path and meadow full of dews ; 
And the high heavens, that all control^ 
Turn in silence round the pole. 
Catch the starry beams they shed 
Prospering the marriage bed, 



And breed the land that reared your prime 
\ Sons to stay the rot of time. 

All is quiet, no alarms; 

Nothing fear of nightly harms. 

Safe you sleep on guarded ground, 

And in silent circle round 
^■s The thoughts of friends keep watch and ward. 

Harnessed angels, hand on sword. 



49 



XXV 

THE ORACLES 

*Tis mute, the word they went to hear on high 
Dodona mountain 
When winds were in the oakenshaws and all the 
cauldrons tolled, 
And mute's the midland navel-stone beside the 
singing fountain, 
And echoes list to silence now where gods told 
lies of old. 



I took my question to the shrine that has not 
ceased from speaking, 
The heart within, that tells the truth and tells it 
twice as plain ; 
And from the cave of oracles I heard the priestess 
shrieking 
That she and I should surely die and never live 
again. 

50 



h priestess, what you cry is clear, and sound good 

sense I think it; 
But let the screaming echoes rest, and froth your 

mouth no more, 
ris true there's better boose than brine, but he 

that drowns must drink it; 
And oh, my lass, the news is news that men have 
heard before. 

he King with half the East at heel is marched 

from lands of morning; 
Their fighters drink the rivers up, their shafts 

benight the air. 
nd he that stands will die for nought, and home 

there's no returning. 
The Spartans on the sea-wet rock sat down and 
combed their hair. 



SI 



XXVI 

The half-moon westers low, my love. 
And the wind brings up the rain ; 

And wide apart lie we, my love. 
And seas between the twain. 

I know not if it rains, my love. 
In the land where you do lie ; 

And oh, so sound you sleep, my love, 
You know no more than I. 



S3 



XXVII 

The sigh that heaves the grasses 
Whence thou wilt never rise 

Is of the air that passes 
And knows not if it sighs. 

The diamond tears adorning 
Thy low mound on the lea, 

Those are the tears of morning, . 
That weeps, but not for thee. 



53 



XXVIII 

Now dreary dawns the eastern light. 

And fall of eve is drear, 
And cold the poor man lies at night, 

And so goes out the year. 

Little is the luck I've had. 
And oh, 'tis comfort small 

To think that many another lad 
Has had no luck at all. 



54 



XXIX 

Wake not for the world-heard thunder 

Nor the chime that earthquakes toll. 
Star may plot in heaven with planet. 
Lightning rive the rock of granite, 
Tempest tread the oakwood under: 

Fear not you for flesh nor soul. 
Marching, fighting, victory past. 
Stretch your limbs in peace at last. 



Stir not for the soldiers drilling 
Nor the fever nothing cures: 

Throb of drum and timbal's rattle 

Call but man alive to battle. 

And the fife with death-notes filling 
Screams for blood but not for yours. 

Times enough you bled your best; 

Sleep on now, and take your rest. 



55 



Sleep, my lad ; the French are landed, 
London's burning, Windsor's down; 
Clasp your cloak of earth about you. 
We must man the ditch without you, 
March unled and fight short-handed. 
Charge to fall and swim to drown. 
Duty, friendship, bravery o'er. 
Sleep away, lad; wake no more. 



56 



XXX 

SINNER'S RUE 

I WALKED alone and thinking, 
And faint the nightwind blew 

And stirred on mounds at crossways 
The flower of sinner's rue. 

Where the roads part they bury 
Him that his own hand slays, 

And so the weed of sorrow 

Springs at the four cross ways. 

By night I plucked it hueless, 
When morning broke 'twas blue : 

Blue at my breast I fastened 
The flower of sinner's rue. 

It seemed a herb of healing, 

A balsam and a sign^ 
Flower of a heart whose trouble 

Must have been worse than mine. 

57 



Dead clay that did me kindness, 
I can do none to you. 

But only wear for breastknot 
The flower of sinner's rue. 



S8 



XXXI 

HELL GATE 

Onward led the road again 
Through the sad uncoloured plain 
Under twilight brooding dim. 
And along the utmost rim 
Wall and rampart risen to sight 
Cast a shadow not of night, 
And beyond them seemed to glow 
Bonfires lighted long ago. 
And my dark conductor broke 
Silence at my side and spoke. 
Saying, "You conjecture well: 
Yonder is the gate of hell." 



Ill as yet the eye could see 
The eternal masonry, 
But beneath it on the dark 
To and fro there stirred a spark. 

59 



And again the sombre guide 
Knew my question^ and replied : 
"At hell gate the damned in turn 
Pace for sentinel and burn." 



-^ 
Dully at the leaden sky 
Staring, and with idle eye 
Measuring the listless plain, 
I began to think again. 
Many things I thought of then, 
Battle, and the loves of men. 
Cities entered, oceans crossed. 
Knowledge gained and virtue lost, 
Cureless folly done and said. 
And the lovely way that led 
To the slimepit and the mire 
And the everlasting fire. 
And against a smoulder dun 
And a dawn without a sun 
Did the nearing bastion loom. 
And across the gate of gloom 
60 



Still one saw the sentry go, 
Trim and burning, to and fro. 
One for women to admire 
In his finery of fire. 
Something, as I watched him pace. 
Minded me of time and place. 
Soldiers of another corps 
v\*^ And a sentry known before. 

Ever darker hell on high 
Reared its strength upon the sky, 
And our footfall on the track 
Fetched the daunting echo back. 
But the soldier pacing still 
The insuperable sill, 
Nursing his tormented pride, 
Turned his head to neither side. 
Sunk into himself apart 
And the hell-fire of his heart. 
But against our entering in 
From the drawbridge Death and Sin 
6i 



Hose to render key and sword 
To their father and their lord. 
And the portress foul to see 
Lifted up her eyes on me 
Smiling, and I made reply: 
"Met again, my lass," said I. 
Then the sentry turned his head, 
iv Looked, and knew me, and was Ned. 

S' 

^i^"! Once he looked, and halted straight, 
Set his back against the gate, 
Caught his musket to his chin. 
While the hive of hell within 

_- Sent abroad a seething hum 
As of towns whose king is come ■ 
Leading conquest home from far 
And the captives of his war. 
And the car of triumph waits, 
And they open wide the gates. 
But across the entry barred 

-(\ Straddled the revolted guard, 
63 



Weaponed and accoutred well 

From the arsenals of hell; 

And beside him, sick and white, 

Sin to left and Death to right 

Turned a countenance of fear 

On the flaming mutineer. 

Over us the darkness bowed. 

And the anger in the cloud 

Clenched the lightning for the stroke; 

But the traitor musket spoke. 

And the hollowness of hell 
Sounded as its master fell. 
And the mourning echo rolled 
Ruin through his kingdom old. 
Tyranny and terror flown 
Left a pair of friends alone. 
And beneath the nether sky 
All that stirred was he and I. 

Silent, nothing found to say, 
We began the backward way; 
63 



And the ebbing lustre died 
From the soldier at my side. 
As in all his spruce attire 
Failed the everlasting fire. 
Midmost of the homeward track 
Once we listened and looked back; 
But the city, dusk and mute, 
Slept, and there was no pursuit. 



64 



XXXII 

When I would muse in boyhood 

The wild green woods among, 
And nurse resolves and fancies 

Because the world was young, 
It was not foes to conquer, 

Nor sweethearts to be kind. 
But it was friends to die for 

That I would seek and find. 

I sought them far and found them, 

The sure, the straight, the brave. 
The hearts I lost my own to. 

The souls I could not save. 
They braced their belts about them. 

They crossed in ships the sea, 
They sought and found six feet of ground, 

And there they died for me. 



65 



XXXIII 

When the eye of day is shut^ 
And the stars deny their beams. 

And about the forest hut 

Blows the roaring wood of dreams. 

From deep clay, from desert rock. 
From the sunk sands of the main. 

Come not at my door to knock, 
Hearts that loved me not again. 

Sleep, be still, turn to your rest 
In the lands where you are laid; 

In far lodgings east and west 
Lie down on the beds you made. 

In gross marl, in blowing dust. 
In the drowned ooze of the sea. 

Where you would not, lie you must. 
Lie you must, and not with me. 



66 



XXXIV 
THE FIRST OF MAY 

The orchards half the way 

From home to Ludlow fair 
Flowered on the first of May 

In Mays when I was there; 
And seen from stile or turning 

The plume of smoke would show 
Where fires were burning 

That went out long ago. 



The plum broke forth in green, 

The pear stood high and snowed. 
My friends and I between 

Would take the Ludlow road; 
Dressed to the nines and drinking 

And light in heart and limb. 
And each chap thinking 

The fair was held for him. 



67 



Between the trees in flower 

New friends at fairtime tread 
The way where Ludlow tower 

Stands planted on the dead. 
Our thoughts, a long while after, 

They think, our words they say; 
Theirs now the laughter, 

The fair, the first of May. 

Ay, yonder lads are yet 

The fools that we were then; 
For oh, the sons we get 

Are still the sons of men. 
The sumless tale of sorrow 

Is all unrolled in vain: 
May comes to-morrow 

And Ludlow fair again. 



68 



XXXV 

When first my way to fair I took 

Few pence in purse had I, 
And long I used to stand and look 

At things I could not buy. 

Now times are altered: if I care 

To buy a thing, I can; 
The pence are here and here's the fair^ 

But where's the lost young man? 

— To think that two and two are four 

And neither five nor three 
The heart of man has long been sore 

And long 'tis like to be. 



6q 



XXXVI 

West and away the wheels of darkness roll, 
Day's beamy banner up the east is borne. 

Spectres and fears, the nightmare and her foal, 
Drown in the golden deluge of the morn. 

But over sea and continent from sight 
Safe to the Indies has the earth conveyed 

The vast and moon-eclipsing cone of night. 
Her towering foolscap of eternal shade. 

See, in mid heaven the sun is mounted ; hark, 
The belfries tingle to the noonday chime. 

'Tis silent, and the subterranean dark 

Has crossed the nadir, and begins to climb. 



70 



XXXVII 
PITAPH ON AN ARMY OF MERCENARIES 

These, in the day when heaven was falling, 
The hour when earth's foundations fled. 

Followed their mercenary calling 

And took their wages and are dead. 

Their shoulders held the sky suspended; 

They stood, and earth's foundations stay; 
What God abandoned, these defended. 

And saved the sum of things for pay. 



71 



XXXVIII 

Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough 

The land and not the sea. 
And leave the soldiers at their drill. 
And all about the idle hill 

Shepherd your sheep with me. 

Oh stay with company and mirth 

And daylight and the air; 
Too full already is the grave 
Of fellows that were good and brave 

And died because they were. 



7a 



XXXIX 

When summer's end is nighing 
And skies at evening cloud, 

I muse on change and fortune 
And all the feats I vowed 
When I was young and proud. 

The weathercock at sunset 
Would lose the slanted ray. 

And I would climb the beacon 
That looked to Wales away 
And saw the last of day. 

From hill and cloud and heaven 
The hues of evening died; 

Night welled through lane and hollow 
And hushed the countryside, 
But I had- youth and pride. 

And I with earth and nightfall 
In converse high would stand, 

Late, till the west was ashen 
And darkness hard at hand. 
And the eye lost the land. 



The year might age, and cloudy 
The lessening day might close, 

But air of other summers 

Breathed from beyond the snows. 
And I had hope of those. 

They came and were and are not 
And come no more anew; 

And all the years and seasons 
That ever can ensue 
Must now be worse and few. 

So here's an end of roaming 
On eves when autumn nighs: 

The ear too fondly listens 
For summer's parting sighs. 
And then the heart replies. 



74 



XL 

Tell me not here, it needs not saying. 
What tune the enchantress plays 

In aftermaths of soft September 
Or under blanching mays. 

For she and I were long acquainted 
And I knew all her ways. 

On russet floors, by waters idle, 

The pine lets fall its cone; 
The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing 

In leafy dells alone; 
And traveller's joy beguiles in autumn 

Hearts that have lost their own. 



On acres of the seeded grasses 
The changing burnish heaves; 

Or marshalled under moons of harvest 
Stand still all night the sheaves; 

Or beeches strip in storms for winter 
And stain the wind with leaves. 
75 



Possess, as I possessed a season. 

The countries I resign, 
Where over elmy plains the highway 

Would mount the hills and shine. 
And full of shade the pillared forest 

Would murmur and be mine. 

For nature, heartless, witless nature. 

Will neither care nor know 
What stranger's feet may find the meadow 

And trespass there and go. 
Nor ask amid the dews of morning 

If they are mine or no. 



76 



XLI 
FANCY'S KNELL 

When lads were home from labour 

At Abdon under Clee, 
A man would call his neighbour 

And both would send for me. 
And where the light in lances 

Across the mead was laid. 
There to the dances 

I fetched my flute and played. 



Ours were idle pleasures, 

Yet oh, content we were. 
The young to wind the measures, 

The old to heed the air; 
And I to lift with playing 

From tree and tower and steep 
The light delaying, 

And flute the sun to sleep. 
17 



The youth toward his fancy 

Would turn his brow of tan. 
And Tom would pair with Nancy 

And Dick step off with Fan; 
The girl would lift her glances 

To hisj and both be mute: 
Well went the dances 

At evening to the flute. 

Wenlock Edge was umbered, 

And bright was Abdon Burf, 
And warm between them slumbered 

The smooth green miles of turf; 
Until from grass and clover 

The upshot beam would fade, 
And England over 

Advanced the lofty shade. 

The lofty shade advances, 
I fetch my flute and play : 

Come, lads, and learn the dances 
And praise the tune to-day. 
78 



To-morrow, more's the pity, 
Away we both must hie. 

To air the ditty. 
And to earth I. 



79 



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